


Alive

by Melkatsudon



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 06:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16634318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melkatsudon/pseuds/Melkatsudon
Summary: Spike awakens after his fight with Vicious. Slowly sinking in what it may mean for him to be alive, in the present and now in his short but sweet reunions of those close to him on the Bebop. In these small moments, he may begin to feel what it is like to be awake, to really be alive.





	Alive

_ Am I dead..? _ Were words swimming around his mind as he floated in the black nothingness around him,  _ Am I really dead this time...? _

Spike received an answer sooner than he expected, trying to twitch a finger to see if his body would move, and a shock of pain shooting through him. Shit. The blackness around him began to feel like he was underwater, slowly rising up and shifting, going from the sounds of water to static. The more his fingers twitched, the more it felt like pins and needles were shooting through his body.

Not painful, but certainly not the greatest sensation to have. Opening his eyes, he realized he could only see out of one, the left one to be exact. It felt like his head was bandaged, so he lifted his hand to touch the bandage or gauze that would be over his right eye. A gasp escaped, however, because he felt nothing but his own skin. Strange. What happened? Didn’t he get injured over his other eye?

_ Wait... _ Internally he paused, forcing his blurry vision to clear so he could focus on the room around him. As he went to sit up, pain shot all through him, especially on his right side. He cursed once, twice, three times as he got up. Hissing through his teeth as he held his injury, the pain was an intense burning, throbbing sensation that almost made it hard to breathe. When was the last time he felt something like this? Spike lifted his other hand, almost quaking, wiping away the sweat forming on his brow and the locks of his dark hair that were stuck there.

_ Wait. _ His mind spoke again as he tried to lift his legs to stand but instead ended up rolling onto the floor, blurting out a loud, “Shit!” when he hit the floor. Hell, he felt like he hit a table, too. Though at that moment, even with the pain coursing through his veins, it finally clicked where he was. It should be no shock that he was on the Bebop, of all places. But this surely had to be a dream, right? Or maybe his own little spot in heaven. Had anyone said that idea to him, he may have joked -- played it off with a “This place heaven? Yeah right. I could think of a million places better.”

Even though he knew that wasn’t true.

But the idea of it being heaven, let alone a dream, was thrown out the window as he went to lift himself again. No, no; this pain would certainly wake anyone up from even the best of dreams, and wasn’t heaven supposed to be this great fluffy place where you didn’t feel any pain?

When his body finally released enough endorphins to let him move again, he managed to stand on his feet, albeit wobbly. He was here, really here. How? The last thing he remembered was.

 

_ Kneeling on the ground from the injury to his thigh, a katana clutched in his hand, he looked at his former partner. Dust was brushed over the ground as their coats lightly fluttered in the wind with it. _

_ “Julia...” Spike began, scowling at Vicious who kept his gun tucked beneath his foot, “Is dead.” A moment of silence, just a second. A second of watching as it sunk into the other man’s face - or maybe he was trying to see if it did at all, and in a way announcing it made it all the more real for himself. Through heavy breaths, he spoke once again, “Let's finish it now.” _

_ “As you wish.” Vicious spoke in a gravelly voice, yet stayed still. _

_ They both did. In just those few seconds. But it still felt like a dream, in a way. This was lasting an eternity, it seemed like until they finally gave one another back their respective weapons. Vicious swung his blade, Spike fired his shot. _

_ Blood. Vicious falling dead. _

_ There were stairs. Limping, the world was spinning now. Were those people? He could have sworn he smiled. The last words he remembered hearing were his own. _

_ “Bang.” _

_ And then he fell into that dark abyss. _

Looking down at his leg to see that injury wrapped, as well as all the other ones on his body, there was no doubt that happened. Moving one foot at a time, which proved to be difficult with half his sight gone and injured leg. He was able to limp at least. Everything felt so quiet, aside from the hum of the machinery and his own breathing.  _ Never thought I would miss the kid and mutt...  _ He thought to himself, but that was a lie. He knew he would miss them. He cared... He cared. That is why he let them go...

The further he walked, he could hear something else; the sound of cooking. Slowly but surely he made his way to the kitchen, he found Jet there cooking. He leaned on the doorway, glancing down to see Jet’s leg still bandaged. The younger man tried to force his mouth to move, to say anything. Not even a snarky, half-hearted joke could come to mind. It seemed like they were just laughing together before he left, and how they both felt as though they knew Spike would never come back. But he was standing there. Right there.

“You’re finally awake.” Jet spoke in his normal tone of voice, being the one to break the silence. Though he didn’t look at Spike as he sat there flipping the food in the pan, “Took you long enough. I was almost getting worried. Food should be done soon.”

Wasn’t this a little casual? Yeah. Yeah, it was. Jet probably didn’t know how to respond either, and while not meaning to ignore the elephant in the room, he probably wasn’t sure of how else to handle it aside from acting as though nothing changed.

Spike swallowed and asked, “How... Why am I back here?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We brought you back here.” Jet spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, still paying attention to the food as he hummed to himself between words. “Faye couldn’t handle sitting around worried sick. Wondering if you were dead or not, she insisted we go to find you just so we would know.”

The older man paused, rubbing his head with his artificial arm and quietly groaned to himself, “And... I was worried too, ya know? You just looked like you were sleeping when we found you. Sleeping and covered in blood. It’s a miracle you are even alive right now.”

Alive. That word struck something in him, even if he didn’t admit it. He was alive. Drawing in a deep breath, almost as if to further that fact, he spoke two words that neither he or Jet expected.

“I’m sorry.”

Now Jet looked at him, his face softened as he smiled at his friend with a shake of his head. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Spike.”

He knew he was right, though Spike must have made a face that warranted the laugh that came from Jet right after, “Go on to the bridge. I’m sure she’s up there, I’ll get you both when food is ready.”

“Right.” Was all Spike could manage to say as he pushed himself off the doorway, backing out of the room and limping his way to his next destination.

Now he wondered what he would say. While he always comes off indifferent and uncaring, deep inside he knew he did not like that he left her crying. Even if he never sad it out loud, he cared about her. Be it just his nature to not talk about those sort of things, or just that he couldn’t find the words, he did. It tightened in his chest, and he just sighed at himself. A tired, pained, annoyed sigh. He swiped his bangs from his forehead, probably as a nervous twitch.

_ “And now you’re leaving just like that!” _

_ “Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you going to do? Just throw your life away like it was NOTHING?!” _

Those words echoed in his mind. He really wondered...  _ How the hell am I going to say anything to her after that? _

Finally, at the bridge, he saw her standing there, back to him and a long trail of smoke in front of her. Of course, she was smoking, that was actually expected. But before he could say anything at all, the dark-haired woman moved her hand to the ash-tray beside her to put out her cigarette.

“You’re awake.” Was all she said, though her tone seemed to be a bit surprised, yet not. Maybe confused was the word? But even then... “Spike.”

“Faye.” Was his immediate response, really the only one he could come up with in that split moment.

So they stood there in silence, not saying anything, not moving. It was like a strange limbo. And if he was honest, he didn’t like it one bit. When he took a step forward, so did she, until they met in the middle - quite literally. Spike gazed at her eyes, he could easily see hurt and pain behind them. Anger, even. But there was a softness as she looked at him, and he noticed how the rims of her eyes were turning red.

“How... how are you feeling?” She hesitated as she spoke, obviously unsure of what all to do herself.

“Aw, worried about me? I’ve had worse.” Spike spoke in his normal casual tone he would have, even if his face didn’t have that nonchalant mask he would normally keep on. He frowned a bit, just a tiny bit. Only enough so that the corners of his mouth looked as though they had merely twitched before he spoke again, “Faye, I’m...”

“Don’t.” Faye interrupted him again, voice loud enough to cause a slight echo in the room. Her eyes sparkled as the tears were starting to form, but she seemed to hold them back from falling well enough. She raised a hand as if she wanted to strike him, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t. Her shoulders shaking showed the conflict she was having at the moment, and she let one single tear fall with her voice like a whisper now, “Don’t... Spike. Did you get your answer?”

Answer? 

_ I'm not going there to die. I'm going to find out if I'm really alive. _

Right. That answer... “I think so.” Was what he spoke as he began to walk towards one of the seats in the room, sitting to give his aching legs a rest. Man. He really got messed up bad, didn’t he? She followed him by leaning by him on the navigation console. Faye lifted her hand again, both of them actually. And before Spike could really process it, she was loosely holding him against her. Now he could feel her shaking.

“Aw, have you fallen for me, Ms. Valentine?” He let out a dry chuckle, but he didn’t smile. He just subtly leaned his head into her shoulder.

“Are you really alive, Spike?” Faye spoke in a tearful, shaking voice. She was obviously trying to keep her composure, but it wasn’t working. Not completely, “If you are. What can you see? Where are you? Tell me, Spike.”

That really began to sink it all in, making him pull away only slightly so her arms sat on his shoulders, but giving him room to gauge his surroundings. Lifting his hand to look at it, the marks and scratches from that day having left small scabs on it. He only could see his palm, this room, even though he had to totally turn his head to look to the right; it was all he could see. He was here, in the present. No Vicious. No Julia. No one from the syndicate. Just him, this room, and Faye.

Closing his eyes as he lowered his hands, he looked back up to look into her eyes again. Was this the face she made when he left? His expression didn’t change. They sat in silence until he let out a breath, a single chuckle as he gave her a half-smile.

“I’m here.”

“Will you stay? Are you going to stay?” Faye moved her hands to hold his face, obviously being careful of the bandages on his head, “Here? On the Bebop? With Jet? With... with...”

She couldn’t say it. But he knew. Of course he knew. The smile completely spread across his face now, placing a hand on one of hers. Warm. That was a feeling he couldn’t say he really felt in a while. The warmth from someone in the present. Here. Now.

“With you?” Spike’s joking tone was back, but he kept hold of her hand as she tried to pull away; probably ready to throw a fit from the way he would always seem to play off serious situations as if they didn’t matter. 

There he was, however, still holding her hand.

He really felt there. Her warmth. The aches in his body. The hum of the ship. Down to that strange, but old feeling in his chest that he would never really be able to put into words.

“I’m alive, Faye. Here.” He said with a slow nod, as if really going over the words he would say. This was the time to give an answer, because now he himself knew what it really was.

“I’ll stay here. On the Bebop. With Jet,” He paused as he pulled her closer again,

“With you.”

Now she smiled, even with the tears pouring down her face. She held him again, with his head so close to her chest he could hear and feel her heartbeat.  _ She’s alive... And so am I. _

_ This isn’t a dream anymore, _ He smiled to himself internally, lifting a hand to place on Faye’s back as she held him,  _ Now? _

_ Now I can finally start living. _

**Author's Note:**

> Has this been done already? Maybe. But it has been an idea floating around in my head since I first finished Cowboy Bebop, and has only increased each time I watched it after.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!


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